


Hydrotherapy

by sheregenerated



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Aftercare, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bath Sex, Consent, F/F, First Time, Hair Washing, Hair-pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, Massage, Neck Kissing, Nipple Play, Praise Kink, Quiet Sex, Smut, Therapy, Topping from the Bottom, Vaginal Fingering, Water Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-23 00:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30046941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheregenerated/pseuds/sheregenerated
Summary: “When I said I’d go with you to therapy, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”Yaz and the Doctor take a bath together. Relieve some of that tension.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Hydrotherapy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZabbyGurlJiva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZabbyGurlJiva/gifts).



> There's a little something in here for everyone, I think. If I missed any tags, please let me know! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not entirely sure what hydrotherapy is, but this definitely isn't it XD 
> 
> Enjoy!

“When I said I’d go with you to therapy, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.” 

  


Yaz might have seen the Doctor’s minute change in facial expression, her apprehension and disappointment, if she weren’t staring at the room she’d just been led into. 

  


“Hydrotherapy spa just like they have on Nereides I. Named after the loud-moaning Amphitrite,” the Doctor said, starting to take her shoes and socks off. 

  


Yaz only noticed because her gaze snapped back to the Doctor when she’d mentioned the etymology of the planet. “Who?” Though Yaz was more curious about how she knew Amphitrite moaned loudly. 

  


The Doctor paused, looking at Yaz to see she was still standing in the doorway, fully-clothed. “Sorry, did you not want to?” 

  


“No, yeah,” Yaz replied, then saw the confused scronch on the Doctor’s face. “I do want to.” The Doctor looked at her a moment longer before nodding and shrugging her suspenders off as she headed over to the tub to start the water. 

  


There was nothing graceful about her movements, but they still managed to cause Yaz’s brain to be simultaneously empty and full of thoughts. She tried to focus on something else instead, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind her. 

  


“So,” Yaz took her jacket off and hung it on the back of the door. “Is it the water that’s special?” she asked, seeing the Doctor focused on the controls. The tub seemed fairly standard in size and shape, but the material was one Yaz didn’t recognize– and it had a control pad that Yaz imagined controlled more features than she could think of. 

  


“The perfect bath temperature for humans is about 36C…” she didn’t quite reply, more like she was muttering to herself. Trying to remember by reciting. 

  


Yaz thought this was as good a time as any to get undressed, so she took her boots and clothes off. She was just securing her towel around herself when the Doctor turned back around. The Doctor was always waving her limbs about, but Yaz thought she might just lose balance when she spun this time. The Doctor’s eyes locked on Yaz; her anchor as she regained her balance. 

  


“Right, all set then,” she clapped her hands together. 

  


“Really?” 

  


“Yep.” 

  


“Not forgetting anything?” 

  


“Oh! Consent forms!” 

  


The Doctor’s arms pinwheeled as she dashed over to the counter where a stack of papers were laid out next to some candles. Yaz might have commented on the clear fire hazard, but she was too distracted by the turn of conversation. 

  


“Consent forms?” Yaz started over to find the Doctor sifting through them, as if to make sure they were all accounted for. Yaz couldn’t imagine she was able to actually read them that quickly, but this was the Doctor and there was always something new to learn with her. 

  


“Consent is cool, Yaz!” The Doctor said, looking up at her like she’d had this conversation before. “Nay,  _ necessary _ .” 

  


Yaz raised a brow at her, but took the forms into her hands and started reading. This wouldn’t be the first time Yaz had to fill out forms like this, but it had been a while since she’d been to any sort of therapy. She always found it difficult to tell someone what she was going through, to have them sitting there, staring at her like she was on stage and she’d forgotten all her lines. 

  


Then Yaz ran into a question she hadn’t been expecting:  _ Is there any chance you are pregnant? _

  


“Doctor,” Yaz’s expression was somewhere between concerned and amused. “Is this you asking me if I...  _ take baths _ with anyone else?” 

  


“Don’t know what you mean,” the Doctor replied innocently. “It’s a standard question, Yaz. Certain types of therapy, certain pressure points, they can trigger labor…” the Doctor started rambling on and Yaz was quite certain she hadn’t specified which part of the form she’d been asking about. Then, she realized, the Doctor’s words matched what was on the page exactly– she’d memorized them, if not written them herself. 

  


“No,” Yaz said, and the Doctor stopped abruptly. 

  


“No?” 

  


“No, I’m not pregnant,” Yaz clarified, “and yes, you have my consent.” 

  


“Right,” the Doctor said, her voice a bit higher as she seemed to rack her brain(s) for what to do next. “Ok.” Yaz wasn’t sure if the Doctor had actually forgotten or if she hadn’t planned past this point. “Good!” She clapped her hands together. “Great!” 

  


Yaz moved to set the papers down before she realized the Doctor might actually want to see what she’d written. Those hadn’t been the only questions, after all, but she’d told her the answers she thought most important. The ones she thought she needed to hear. Yaz realized the Doctor hadn’t told Yaz what  _ her _ answers were, either. Perhaps she was waiting for Yaz to ask her back. 

  


When Yaz turned back to ask the Doctor in kind, she saw the Doctor was no longer standing there. In her place was a pile of clothes crumpled on the floor where she’d once stood. Yaz’s eyes drifted up to see that the Doctor was now sitting in the tub, her body only partly hidden because of the transparent panes on the sides. It somehow felt more revealing than if she were standing naked in front of her. 

  


“You really need to get out of that towel,” the Doctor said, her words pulling Yaz back to the surface. When had her eyes gone out of focus? 

  


Perhaps sensing Yaz was feeling self-conscious, the Doctor scooted forward in the tub. “I won’t look, promise,” she covered her eyes to prove her point. Though Yaz suspected her eyes were closed as well, and her hands were up more for Yaz’s sake. 

  


Yaz walked up behind the tub, behind the Doctor, and tried not to stare at the exposed skin on display. Even though it was just her back, it was a lot more skin than Yaz was used to seeing. The Doctor’s clothes left much to the imagination, and now she had to adjust to seeing much more than she was accustomed to. 

  


“It’s perfectly natural, Yaz,” the Doctor said, and Yaz froze. Could the Doctor feel her gaze? Or was she just assuming she was staring because Yaz was taking so long? Was she referring to being naked? Or bathing? Together? Yaz decided the statement was for her benefit and removed her towel, easing her way into the tub behind the Doctor. 

  


It was easier this way, she thought, being close to the Doctor without being on display. It didn’t stop her cheeks from warming at the contact, though. Yaz had followed the Doctor back in time, to different planets, anywhere and everywhere– yet this was one place Yaz found most daunting: new territory with the Doctor. 

  


“Yaz? Can I ask you something?” the Doctor asked, still covering her face. 

  


“You just did,” Yaz said, immediately wishing she could suck those words back in through her teeth. “Yes, Doctor. Always. And you can look, now.” 

  


There was a moment of quiet where Yaz was quickly filing through different apologies she could make to the Doctor. Excuses for her wording, that she’d meant the Doctor could open her eyes, not that she wanted her to  _ look _ . Yaz was afraid she’d made her uncomfortable, but before she could form words, the Doctor spoke and quieted Yaz’s spiralling thoughts. “Would you wash my hair?” 

  


Yaz wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that. “I don’t have any shampoo.” 

  


The Doctor’s hands finally lowered into the water, her head bowed so her hair shielded her face from view. 

  


“It’s fine if you don’t want to, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…” The Doctor’s rambling reminded her of her own thought process. She realized her reply had sounded like an excuse, a rejection. 

  


“Doctor, we’re in a bath together,” Yaz chuckled with mirth, “I just need product for your hair.” 

  


“You sure?” 

  


“Sure,” Yaz said, placing her hands on the Doctor’s shoulders and rubbing reassuring circles at the base of her neck. Yaz’s brows knitted together, unsure if she was tense because of her touch or because she was holding tension in her shoulders already. “Doctor, when’s the last time you had a massage?” 

  


“Hmmm,” the Doctor hummed in thought, but it sounded different, deeper than it usually did. “I was trained as a masseuse, once….” 

  


“Is this your first time receiving one, Doctor?” 

  


“Um, yeah, would be with this body.” 

  


“Is that something you would want?”

When the Doctor didn’t reply, Yaz started to pull her hands away. 

  


“No!” The Doctor said, her hand reaching to her shoulder to try to catch Yaz’s hand before it left her skin. She didn’t catch it in time. “Please…” 

  


Yaz slowly ran her hand up the Doctor’s back until their hands met. They stayed that way, just holding each other, being in that moment. As if the universe was contained in the space between their fingers. Until Yaz let out a breath and time began to move again. The Doctor didn’t let go until Yaz’s other hand had returned to her other shoulder, assuring her that she would stay. 

  


Yaz was about to tell the Doctor to let her know if there was anything she didn’t like, but the Doctor spoke first. 

  


“I was trained by a Venusian with five arms. ‘Course I only have two, but it’s not the number of arms, it’s what you do with them, isn’t it?” 

  


It was then that Yaz understood. Yaz might be the one giving the massage, but it was the Doctor who was in control. She expected Yaz to do as she was told. 

  


“Yeah,” Yaz said, letting the Doctor know she understood. Yaz liked to be in charge, but these were orders she didn’t want to refuse. 

  


“The basic principle of Venusian massage is to use pressure points and turn off the genes that cause inflammation, and turn on the ones associated with healing,” the Doctor began, “you want to start a bit higher than that, Yaz.” 

  


Yaz had been unsure if she should do anything during this introduction, but at the Doctor’s words, she slid her hands along the curve of her neck until she heard the Doctor’s breath hitch. Yaz’s fingers had reached the edge of her jaw, her thumbs against the base of her skull. She could feel the muscles in the Doctor’s neck ripple as she swallowed. 

  


“There,” the Doctor continued, “press there.” 

  


Yaz did as she was told. As she pressed with her thumbs, her fingers squeezed ever so slightly and they both froze. Yaz wasn’t sure if she should apologize or wait for the Doctor to speak, but she dared not move her hands. 

  


“A little lower,” the Doctor instructed, and Yaz obeyed. Her fingers slid down the Doctor’s throat as she guided her thumbs to the next place she was told to. She was careful to do exactly as the Doctor said, not wanting to do anything that would cross some boundary she couldn’t come back from. 

  


At least, ones the Doctor didn’t want her to cross. 

  


“Venusians specialise in pressure points. Just there, in the hollow between–” Yaz pressed her thumbs into the space between the two vertical neck muscles on the back of the Doctor’s neck. The results were instant– Yaz could feel the Doctor’s neck muscles melting beneath her touch. 

  


Yaz felt the Doctor’s moan more than she heard it. The faint vibrations beneath her fingertips gave the Doctor away, though she’d closed her mouth to try to stifle the sound. Yaz couldn’t help but be a bit pleased with herself because of it. 

  


“You were saying?” Yaz asked, half-expecting the Doctor to call her out for her cheek. 

  


“I was saying…? What was I saying… oh, yes, a few more inches, Yaz,” the Doctor said, apparently needing that nudge back onto her train of thought. Yaz took her time sliding her hands down the Doctor’s neck and onto her shoulders. 

  


Yaz was hitting her stride, now, emboldened by the responses she was getting from her work. She thought about teasing the Doctor, letting her hands move even after she told her to stop. But something told her that the Doctor wouldn’t like it, and she didn’t want to break the spell. 

  


“Stop,” the Doctor said, Yaz halting her movements immediately. “Right there. Any further, you’ll hit a… sensitive cluster of nerves. Only on the left side, but it’s a vulnerable point for me.” Yaz took note of this, of the Doctor’s tone, and would be sure to avoid that particular spot. It felt good to be trusted with that information. It almost felt more intimate than… whatever this was. 

  


“I won’t break, Yaz,” the Doctor encouraged her to continue. She did, if a bit hesitant, though she had to trust that the Doctor would tell her if she did something to hurt her. “You can press harder.” Yaz wasn’t sure if this was a pep talk or criticism. But she would not let her shield of pride be damaged. Brows knitting together, she shifted her weight to get better leverage. She felt the Doctor’s hands on her legs, keeping her steady as she kneaded at the Doctor’s shoulders. 

  


Yaz was now attuned to nonverbal instructions, the Doctor squeezing her thighs or letting them slide against her skin to indicate the direction Yaz ought to move. Just like that, the Doctor was able to pilot her as easily as she might have the TARDIS. Yaz thought about the Doctor’s hands working the buttons, how she’d often glanced too long as she operated the controls on the console. 

  


The Doctor started talking about the water and climate, her hands detaching from Yaz’s legs. Yaz found she missed the pressure and wondered if she’d done something wrong. Her movements slowed as the Doctor continued her rambling, and Yaz thought perhaps she’d become uncomfortable. Was trying to change the subject. 

  


“–but this one’s built with Visarm crystal, with added chromotherapy, water magnetization, sonic therapy, and hydromassage.” Yaz watched the Doctor tap away at a control panel on the side of the bath. “Haven’t used that one before, but it sounds fun! What do you think?” 

  


This was the first time the Doctor had turned to look at Yaz, and the redness in her cheeks had nothing to do with the steam. 

  


“Yeah,” Yaz said, her hands relaxing on the Doctor’s shoulders once more. The Doctor held her gaze for a moment, giving Yaz a chance to back out. But Yaz was’t one to run away. Not any more. “Sounds good, Doctor.” 

  


She seemed to have accepted Yaz’s answer, but didn’t turn away yet. Instead, her eyes flicked down as Yaz let go of the Doctor’s shoulders. 

  


“What do you think you’re doing with those hands, Yaz?” 

  


“I thought–” 

  


Yaz felt her cheeks darken under the Doctor’s unwavering gaze, though she didn’t feel the need to cover up at all. That was no longer something she thought about. She only thought about the Doctor, and whatever this was, she wanted more of it. 

  


“Tell me what to do,” Yaz said, pressing her palms to the Doctor’s back and charting a path up her spine. The Doctor hummed in approval and turned to face front once more, and Yaz thought she caught her closing her eyes as she turned. 

  


“Between my shoulder blades,” the Doctor said, her hands sliding down Yaz’s legs until they had almost reached her ankles. Yaz stopped and tried to match the pressure the Doctor was applying. “You’re doing great, Yaz.” She felt great, too, and couldn’t be sure if the Doctor was working Yaz’s pressure points, or if she just liked the praise. “You can stop now.” 

  


Yaz hadn’t noticed she was grinning until she felt her face fall at the Doctor’s words. 

  


“Your hands must need a break,” the Doctor said, “I know how hard you were working.” 

  


Oh. 

  


Yaz was relieved and let herself relax. She didn’t want this to be over just yet, but the break was nice. The Doctor was hard work, as always. 

  


“Let me see your hands,” the Doctor said and Yaz reached forward over her shoulders. The Doctor relaxed against her, leaving Yaz pressed between the back of the tub and the slightly cooler body in front of her. The Doctor was shifted to the side just enough for Yaz to see over her shoulder as she appraised Yaz’s fingers. 

  


Yaz had never had a hand massage before, and she immediately questioned why she hadn’t pursued one earlier. She’d only ever really had a shoulder rub in the past, a basic massage anyone could give her. This was far more intimate and relaxing. Or, perhaps, she just liked it because it was the Doctor. 

  


Who, as it turns out, was very good with her hands. 

  


“This point here,” the Doctor said, pinching the webbing between Yaz’s thumb and index finger, “can reduce stress, headaches, neck pain….” The Doctor massaged the spot for a few seconds. Yaz knew she was trying to teach her about pressure points right now, but the only ones on her mind were the ones between her and the Doctor. 

  


“Breathe, Yaz,” the Doctor reminded her. “Slow and deep.” Yaz’s mouth went dry, but she tried to do as the Doctor said. “In… and out….” Yaz let the Doctor guide her through her breaths and found her own body relaxing. Yaz had never been good at that, relaxing on command, but apparently there was more to this  _ breathing _ thing than she thought. 

  


Normally, when someone told her to breathe, it only agitated her. But this was a very different situation with a very different person saying those words to her. Yaz found herself closing her eyes and continuing to follow the pattern as the Doctor moved to her other hand. The Doctor introduced her to a couple more points on her wrist. Yaz let touch be her guide as she listened to the Doctor and felt her fingers against her skin. 

  


“Are you falling asleep on me, Yaz?” The Doctor asked, and Yaz snapped awake. 

  


“No, keep going, please,” Yaz said, “I’m paying attention.” 

  


The Doctor turned enough to look at Yaz again, and Yaz couldn’t help but let her eyes wander. She was brought out of it when the Doctor poked her right between her eyebrows. 

  


“Hey!” Yaz felt like she’d just had a ruler smacked on her knuckles by some school teacher. 

  


“That’s another one,” the Doctor said, “helps with anxiety and stress.” 

  


“So whenever you get that crease between your brows, I can just do this?” Yaz said, poking the Doctor between her eyebrows in return. 

  


“Oi!” The Doctor exclaimed in mock offense, “cheeky.” 

  


The shift in tone felt so familiar, Yaz giggled at the contrast. At this situation she was in. Just an hour ago, she thought the Doctor was taking her to see a proper therapist. Thought they were going to talk things out, but instead they were naked, in a bathtub, poking each other in the face. 

  


Yaz’s giggles subsided when the Doctor reached her hand toward her cheek. Her eyes widened slightly as she held her breath, her eyes darting across the Doctor’s face for some sign of where her trajectory would lead her. Yaz felt the Doctor’s fingers brush her hair back, and she was sure the Doctor could hear her heart beating faster from her touch. If not feel it, with her proximity. The anticipation for what she might do next was almost overwhelming. 

  


Yaz felt the Doctor’s thumb press against the shell of her ear, rubbing small circles against it. The Doctor was still looking at Yaz’s ear, as if she were trying not to look anywhere but that one point on her body. Yaz, however, was painfully aware of  _ every _ point of her body. Could feel the Doctor’s words against her skin as she spoke. Even though she was close to her ear, Yaz didn’t hear a word she said. Every bit of her attention was applied to her self-restraint as she tried to keep still. To not disturb the Doctor, not wanting her to move, yet desperately wanting her to apply her ministrations elsewhere. 

  


As if sensing her thoughts, the Doctor’s eyes shifted slightly, locking onto Yaz’s. “The next one is hearts-center, carrying the body’s emotions. Are you up for that?” Yaz didn’t quite trust herself to speak, so she nodded in response. But that wasn’t enough to satisfy the Doctor. “Be sure.” 

  


The Doctor was talking about more than pressure points, of that Yaz was certain. 

  


“Sure,” Yaz held the Doctor’s gaze, feeling that averting her eyes would be some form of withdrawl she wanted to resist. Not waiting for the Doctor’s guidance, Yaz let her hand trail its way up her stomach until it rested between her hearts. Her fingers ghosted over the swell of the Doctor’s breast as her thumb anchored between them. The Doctor rubbed circles on the shell of Yaz’s ear, so she took this as a cue to massage the Doctor as well. 

  


“You catch on quick,” the Doctor said, impressed. 

  


“Every day’s a learning day if you want it to be,” Yaz said, eyes sparkling. 

  


“You speak my language,” the Doctor said, her tongue swiping across her lip. Yaz couldn’t help but be drawn to the movement, but as soon as she looked, the Doctor’s tongue had retreated back into her mouth. When she looked back up at the Doctor, she caught her looking at Yaz’s lips, allowing herself that moment of indulgence. Their eyes met only for a moment before they closed the distance between them. 

  


The first thing Yaz noticed was that the Doctor’s lips were cooler than she thought they’d be. Especially since they were sitting in a warm bath. But her thoughts quickly pressed on to the Doctor’s hand, which had moved on from her ear to her neck. The Doctor’s fingers found purchase in Yaz’s dark tresses and she hummed in approval. The Doctor leaned into the sound, the slight twist of her torso causing Yaz’s hand to shift, her fingers brushing against the Doctor’s nipple. 

  


The Doctor gasped and pulled away just far enough that Yaz opened her eyes to look at her. “That’s… different.” 

  


“Good different?” Yaz asked, sounding more sure of herself than she was feeling. 

  


The Doctor hummed in thought, “dunno. Better try it again.” 

  


Yaz slid her hand over until it was cupping the Doctor’s breast, her thumb brushing against soft skin until it swept over the Doctor’s nipple. Yaz felt it harden instantly under her touch and felt incredibly privileged to be able to see the Doctor’s reaction so close. Yaz had always paid attention to the Doctor, her many different facial expressions catalogued in her mind… but this one was new. And this close, it was almost as if she could see her synapses lighting up as it tried to process the new signals it was receiving. 

  


“Good different.” 

  


“You sure?” Yaz asked, taking the Doctor’s nipple between her fingers and tugging it gently. The Doctor arched towards her slightly, both wanting to pull away and have more. “Should we check the other one?” 

  


“Just to be sure.” 

  


Yaz decided to try something different, twisting as well as pulling lightly. Her eyes were on the Doctor’s the entire time, noting the shift in her eyes as if she were seeing something different in Yaz’s, too. The only sound Yaz could hear was the sound of breaths exchanged between them until the moment their lips met once more. Yaz felt the Doctor’s fingers press against her neck, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. Yaz continued to tease at the Doctor’s chest, seeing how she responded to different movements. 

  


Yaz’s other hand slid around the Doctor’s waist, mapping out every inch of her skin within reach. She felt the Doctor’s stomach muscles tighten as she passed over them, though she dared not dip lower. Not yet. “You seem tense, Doctor,” Yaz said, pulling back just enough so their lips brushed as she spoke. 

  


“Yaz,” the Doctor whispered, and her name never tasted so sweet. 

  


“I can help with that, if you want.” Yaz had never felt so bold, but seeing the Doctor with pupils blown wide instilled courage in her. “Just tell me what to do.” 

  


“I don’t…” For once, the Doctor seemed lost for words. “I don’t know how.” 

  


Yaz was surprised at first, but then she understood. The Doctor needed help, but didn’t know how to ask. This would be new territory for both of them. 

  


Lucky for her, Yaz was good with her hands. 

  


“Then show me.” 

  


The Doctor held Yaz’s gaze as she slid her hand down Yaz’s neck and slowly made her way down her chest. Yaz mirrored her movements, matching pace until they reached their destinations. The Doctor and Yaz were no strangers to eye contact, but this was a whole new level of intensity. Yaz felt a rush when the Doctor’s hand reached her breast, and she was certain the thrill was even higher from knowing this was the Doctor’s first time. At least in this body. 

  


Usually it would be easy to tell how far along someone was, but with them being submerged in water, Yaz relied mostly on the Doctor’s reactions. The Doctor paused then, considering her next move before moving her hand around Yaz’s breast. It was up to Yaz on how to interpret her movements, and she chose to slide her middle finger up and down in sync with her partner. The Doctor’s hips twitched forward, but she was so focused on what they were doing, that she didn’t consciously react at all. 

  


Yaz, however, bit her lip and had to consciously remind herself to continue to match the Doctor’s movements. The Doctor’s eyes were drawn to Yaz’s lip, caught between her teeth, and she found herself wanting to know what that felt like. What she tasted like. Yaz caught her looking again and released her lip just in time for the Doctor to take it into her own, tugging her just that little bit closer until their lips melded together. 

  


The Doctor squeezed her breast and Yaz let herself in further, her finger gliding effortlessly against the Doctor’s sensitive skin. The Doctor applied some of Yaz’s earlier tricks on her, and when Yaz pressed the pad of her finger against the Doctor’s sensitive nub, the Doctor gasped. Yaz thought she looked shocked, if not scared, at how strong of a reaction she felt. “Is it supposed to be that sensitive?” 

  


“You’ve got twice as many nerve endings down there, now,” Yaz said, though this was somewhat of a guess. She knew the Doctor wasn’t used to being a woman, or this body, and most of her seemed to be the same as humans. It was… an educated guess. 

  


“Love an educational experience,” the Doctor said, eyes twinkling with excitement as she began circling Yaz’s nipple with her thumb. Yaz matched pace and pressure as she rubbed small circles against the Doctor’s clit. She had to keep her other hand on the Doctor just to keep her still as she grew more enthusiastic. 

  


“Breathe, Doctor,” Yaz said calmly, getting the Doctor used to a slower pace. “Don’t rush this.” 

  


“Sorry,” the Doctor blushed a little and looked away, “I’ve just got a bit of… tension.” 

  


“I’ve got you,” Yaz nestled her head against the Doctor’s, her lips close to her ear. “Just breathe in… and out.” The Doctor closed her eyes and let her head loll back against Yaz’s shoulder as she focused on her breathing. “That’s good,” Yaz said and pressed a kiss against the soft skin behind her earlobe. 

  


The Doctor hummed in response, so Yaz took this as encouragement and pressed another kiss against her neck. The Doctor’s lips parted to release a soft moan that sounded something like her name. Her next words were more coherent. “Keep doing that.” Yaz peppered kisses down the Doctor’s neck as the blonde tipped her head to give her better access. Yaz’s lips tingled from the vibrations as she felt every moan the Doctor shared with her. Yaz added a second finger, changing her pattern with slow languid strokes. 

  


The Doctor’s hand dropped to Yaz’s thigh as if bracing for turbulence. “More.” Yaz pulled back to look at the Doctor’s face. “I need more of you, Yaz.” 

  


Yaz slid one finger to the Doctor’s entrance, pausing to make sure this is what she meant. 

  


“Please.” 

  


Yaz easily slid into the Doctor, though she tightened around her immediately. Yaz stilled, letting the Doctor have a moment to get used to the sensation of being filled. She observed the Doctor’s every reaction, her eyes squeezing shut and her fingers gripping Yaz’s thigh. 

  


“Doctor…” Yaz waited patiently for the Doctor to communicate what she wanted. 

  


“Just a minute, Yaz,” the Doctor said, that line between her brows again. But Yaz couldn’t reach it. Not now. 

  


“Do you trust me?” Yaz asked the Doctor, her gaze steady as she considered what she was asking. Their relationship had its problems, clear and present cracks in its foundation, through lack of communication, through mistakes, through heartache, sacrifice, and unspoken words. But every relationship had its weak points, its challenges, and what mattered was that they were willing to work at it. To try to do better, be better, to grow as they go. For all her faults, Yaz knew she wanted the Doctor more than anything. Trust had to be earned, and could be broken easily, but that didn’t have to mean it was gone forever. 

  


“Always,” The Doctor said softly, sincerely, and Yaz was reminded of when she’d asked her for that favor in the console room.  _ How much he loved her _ , Yaz remembered her own words, but while she’d been speaking about someone else, she’d been thinking about the Doctor. Her eyes glancing down at her lips, then finding the Doctor mirroring her actions. As if she felt the same. 

  


“Is this the first time you’ve…” Yaz glanced away, not quite as much from embarrassment as much as realizing the words she was going to say weren’t quite what she meant. Yaz wasn’t even sure  _ she _ knew what she meant. “I mean, in this body?” 

  


“Perfectly natural, Yaz,” the Doctor said, though Yaz wasn’t sure if this was meant to comfort her from embarrassment or something else. “Just… haven’t gotten around to it.” 

  


“Why now?” Yaz asked. It hadn’t been the question she’d meant to ask. The words just tumbled from her lips. 

  


“I...” The Doctor opened her eyes, staring off into nothing, or perhaps some dimension Yaz couldn’t see. “My priorities have changed since I got back.” 

  


Yaz wondered if she meant with herself, with anyone– or if Yaz, in some form or another, was on her list of priorities. What had the Doctor wanted? Did she just want someone to take a bath with? Or was all of this, all the detail, planned somewhere in her mind? Something she’d wanted to get around to, but one thing or another kept taking priority. 

  


The Doctor’s to-do list, Yaz imagined, was less of a note and more of a scroll that rolled onto the floor and down the infinite corridors of the TARDIS. 

  


“Doctor, look at me,” Yaz said, rubbing soothing circles against her skin and pressing a soft kiss against her jaw. The Doctor turned her head to face Yaz, though her focus still seemed elsewhere. “Breathe with me,” Yaz dared not remove her hand, but her other one slid up the Doctor’s stomach until her thumb found hearts-center. 

  


The Doctor had asked her if she was sure, if she was ready for something like this. Not just the physical, but the emotional as well. Yaz didn’t know what the Doctor had gone through, or for how long, but she knew enough to know it took its toll. The Doctor had tried to keep her at arm’s length, keep her guard up, no matter how many times Yaz came at it with a battle axe. 

  


But now she was letting Yaz in. Trusting her. 

  


Yaz felt the Doctor start to relax as her breathing fell in sync with her own. The Doctor focused on the pressure on her chest, and then her eyes found Yaz’s. They stayed like that for a few breaths. They didn’t talk, they simply existed in that moment together. It felt like the rift between them was just a little bit smaller, now, and they wanted nothing more than to close the gap. 

  


“Kiss me,” the Doctor said, and Yaz was happy to oblige. It didn’t take long, then, for the Doctor to relax. Yaz waited until the Doctor began stroking her thigh before beginning to move her hand again. Slow, at first, with a new sort of tightness as the Doctor grew more comfortable. Then they began to fall into a syncopated rhythm. 

  


The Doctor’s requests no longer came in the form of words, and Yaz was determined to coax every adjuring sound from her lips. Yaz began to pick up the pace and the Doctor’s other hand found Yaz’s hair again, tugging gently and prompting Yaz to break for air. Yaz saw whole constellations in her eyes, always had. 

  


Yaz had said she’d wanted more of the universe. But the Doctor  _ was _ her universe. 

  


_ We can’t have a universe with no Yaz. _

  


The memory rose to the surface, an intense declaration made before leaving in a cloud of dust. Yaz hadn’t had time to process it, then, but with how the Doctor was looking at her, she was starting to. 

  


Overloaded by her senses, the Doctor couldn’t manage to convey what she meant through words. For all the boasting about her silver tongue, her greatest skill seemed to be failing her. So the Doctor used another one of her assets: her mind. 

  


The Doctor wanted to do something for Yaz, to help relieve  _ her _ tension. She moved her hand to the control panel and, moments later, the hydromassage jets turned on. Yaz heard them before she felt them, though they weren’t communicating verbally at this point, so she didn’t mind the volume. What she had failed to notice before, however, is that there were jets on the  _ bottom _ of the tub as well. 

  


The Doctor was hyper aware of Yaz’s reaction, and smiled when she deduced that she liked it. Yaz thought she looked somewhere between elated and smug, but being thoroughly distracted, she decided to kiss the smirk right off her face. Realizing she’d lost focus on her movements, and grateful for the Doctor’s addition, Yaz made one of her own. Instead of inserting another finger, Yaz pressed her thumb against the Doctor and found her gasping against her lips. 

  


She didn’t need to ask for Yaz to understand. Continuing her pace, she began to move her thumb in small circles in time with her thrusts. The Doctor’s moans were louder than the jets, even as her hand hit the controls. The adjustment led to Yaz making a sound she’d not recognized, and she shifted slightly to position herself better. Her instinct upon hearing herself was to muffle the sound, and she found the Doctor’s neck the perfect place to do so. 

  


“Yaz–” the Doctor barely managed to say her name as her hand buried itself in Yaz’s hair. It was Yaz’s teeth that had drawn her name from the Doctor’s lips, but that seemed to be the last sound she could muster. Yaz felt the Doctor pulse around her finger, her back arching as she gave a silent scream. Yaz once said she didn’t like it when the Doctor went quiet. 

  


It turned out there was an exception. 

  


Yaz kept one hand grounding the Doctor, the other giving her a high unlike any other she’d felt. She slowed her movements and drew out the Doctor’s high as long as she could before slowly drawing her back. Every kiss reminded the Doctor of where she was, who she was with, letting her know she was safe. 

  


Because Yaz knew, even if she’d lost herself in the moment, she could easily slip back into a darker headspace if she wasn’t cared for properly after. Yaz wanted to make sure she was safe, physically, emotionally, and mentally. She kissed her way up to her temple and let her lips linger there as she slowly withdrew her hand. The Doctor’s body shuddered as her finger slid along her sensitive skin before Yaz wrapped her arms around her. 

  


“How do you feel?” Yaz murmured against the Doctor’s skin before resting her head against the Doctor. She was still awake, but she’d gone quiet and relaxed against Yaz entirely. Yaz’s arms were around her waist as much for comfort as they were to keep her above water. Even if she hadn’t, Yaz would have wanted to talk to her, make sure she was ok. 

  


“Brawesome,” the Doctor said wistfully. 

  


“Sorry, what?” Yaz’s brows knitted together as she looked at the Doctor with a bemused expression. 

  


“I was going to say brilliant, but then I thought awesome would be better, and I just sort of got something in the middle,” the Doctor rambled, “I think my brain shut off for a minute there. Rebooted and is sorting itself out as it goes.” 

  


Yaz smiled at the Doctor affectionately, amused, and glad she was feeling good after it all. Glad to know the Doctor hadn’t lost herself entirely. She wasn’t the same Doctor she’d met back in Sheffield, but Yaz wasn’t the same either. They’d both changed, and perhaps they could change together,  _ grow _ together. 

  


“So what did you think?” The Doctor asked, and Yaz pulled from her own thoughts. For once, she’d been thinking about the future again, not stuck in the past, or focused on the present. She could see herself with the Doctor, moving  _ forward _ . “Of the therapy?” 

  


“I think we made some progress,” Yaz said with a mischievous glint in her eye, “but we might need to have another session.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Never would have finished this without ZabbyGurlJiva <3 <3


End file.
